That single word alone is enough to send me to the opposite side of the room, arms crossed and hip jutted out in utter discomfort. I am not sporty, I never have been really. While I played netball and Oz-Tag, I always enjoyed the comfort of my books and music to help me escape. I don’t like being exposed or in a position where I’m going to be made to look like a fool or incapable of doing the most simple of movements.
When I finally got to uni, I had a few attempts at having a go at a gym or trying to train myself to run. I never lasted long, mostly because I never was motivated. I had a weight goal in mind, but sometimes it just wasn’t enough to keep going, other times I had success, but at a cost. My obsession with how I looked would often take over and I would obsess about how much and what I ate and more often than not I would self-sabotage.
I have no pride in my ability to self-sabotage, it has ruined a lot of progress I have made and has put me in some very dark holes. I often get frustrated and angry when I don’t see results quick enough. I struggle to keep exercising when my body is hurting and there is chocolate bar or large packet of chips waiting for me.
Sometimes I just give up altogether.
I would blame the media, I would blame everyone else around me, the world was just not built to accommodate me or my size. But the fact of the matter is, I need to blame myself. I over-eat, I stress out and I prefer to sleep and watch You-Tube than getting my arse out of bed to get my heart rate pumping.
While I am a size 14 (average for Australia) I know I carry my weight in areas where it puts me at a higher risk of cardiovascular disease, diabetes and a whole host of other problems. So, in June this year I gave myself a start over. June was my New Year that I was going to stick with. I already participated in the fitness classes offered at my work, but I knew I could do better. I am always up for a challenge.
Enter from stage left, the F45 8-week challenge. How I roped myself into this one, I still don’t know. How I even find the motivation to wake up early and train 4 to 5 times a week is a mystery to me. My muscles ache and I am dead by the time evening rolls around.
But there is progress.
I will never be chocolate box perfect and I will always struggle with sugar cravings but I am putting in the effort to try and be a better version of me that I can. 1% of progress is still progress. I know my numbers, I know my goals and at the end of the day I am so much happier when I have that endorphin rush in the morning when I climb up those stairs a little less puffed out. What’s even better this new period of exercise has taught me, is that I can’t do it by myself. I need a team of people around me to keep me motivated.
That’s my power this time round. I still love my books and I still love my music, but now I can enjoy them that little more better because I went for that early morning session and I have a body that can move. I have a body that can lift weight and do squats. I have a body that keeps me alive and able to do the things I love. I’m starting to see the physical value in body and not just the appearance. I’m getting into that mindset where can I look in the mirror and accept me for me.
One day I will run that marathon and I will be able to look in the mirror and realise how lucky I am to have a healthy body. While I’m not 100% there yet, one day I will be.
With all my love,
Bloom and Find
Photo credit: Simon Vella Design